


Three men, Four hearts.

by Mournful



Category: Doctor Who (2005), Sherlock Holmes - fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-14
Updated: 2014-07-14
Packaged: 2018-02-08 19:17:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1952937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mournful/pseuds/Mournful
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I wrote this because I want someone else to be show runner for Doctor Who now. I added sexy stuff to make it a more palatable idea to fans of Steven Moffat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Three men, Four hearts.

Steven Moffat awoke gently. His eyes fluttered open, only to be gently rebuffed by Sherlock’s dark curls. He closed his eyes again and breathed deeply. Contentment. The motion of his chest elicited a response from Sherlock’s body. It was a subtle thing, but wonderful. For just a moment, Sherlock presses back against him. The naked skin of his back clings gently to Steven’s chest. What earlier had been warm hot flesh, had now cooled as they’d slept.  
Steven edged his head forward slightly. He let his lips brush over the edge of Sherlock’s ear. He whispered enticements, but Sherlock was deep within his own slumber, dreaming of things Steven could only pretend to imagine.  
Carefully, Steven got out of bed, adjusting the sheet to better cover Sherlock, but not before he took a moment to appreciate who lay before him. His eyes traveled the length of Sherlock’s body from his feet, all the way up to his finely muscled back. For a moment, Steven muses that most people forget Sherlock is a fighter. He chuckles aloud as he thinks to himself that he alone knows Sherlock is a lover as well.  
He let’s the sheet fall, making sure to keep his beloved warm, and makes his way towards the bathroom. As he fumbles in the dark, he finds and is guided by the faint glow of the bathroom night light. He makes his way through the door and considers throwing the lights on. As if to judge his ability to function in such low light, he looks into the bathroom mirror. His image is dark. He reaches up to rub his bleary eyes. From the dark corner of the bathroom, comes a voice.  
“Don’t you think he looks tired?”  
Steven jumps and clutches his heart. He manages to stifle his shriek of surprise. He spins around, his tone chiding, “Doctor! What if we’d woken Sherlock?”  
There’s a slight whirring sound, then the bathroom door gently clicks shut, and the lights come up a bit more brightly. Not so much that Steven’s eyes are hurt, but enough that he remembers he’s not wearing any clothes. Neither, it would appear, is the Doctor. At least, from what he can see of the Doctor as he reclines in the two person hot tub Steven recently had installed.  
The Doctor places his sonic screwdriver on a ledge far from the water. “Oh of course. We wouldn’t want to waken precious little Sherlock would we?”  
Steven’s shoulders sag, “Don’t be like that. Please?”  
The Doctor frowns and looks away. “I’m sorry.” He says softly, but firmly. He looks up again and his eyes meet Steven’s. This isn’t the face Steven remembers, but the look in those eyes, the fire that dares him to burn alongside it throughout eternity, that’s the Doctor. Oh yes, that’s the Doctor indeed.  
The Doctor grins and beckons Steven to him, “C’mere you.” Steven walks slowly up to the hot tub. His earlier worry about waking Sherlock had just been playful banter. He knows, he and the Doctor both know, Sherlock can sleep through anything.  
Steven lets out a short hiss as his feet hit the hot water, As he gazes down at the lean, firm form of the Doctor, he momentarily feels self-conscious. The Doctor seems to sense his unease, he reaches out for Steven’s hand, and pulls him down into the water, “Never you mind yourself about silly things.”  
Steven blushes, “It’s just…”  
“What?” Asks the Doctor as he runs his fingers through Steven’s hair and down his neck. Steven looks up at him shyly, “Why me? Out of all the people in time and space, why would you choose to be with me?”  
The Doctor holds his chin and looks him in the eyes. “Because you’re you. That’s why.”  
Steven starts again, “But--”  
The Doctor cuts him off, “Haven’t I been through all of time and space? Hmmm? Perhaps I know something about choice, and what’s important in a person. I’ve loved and lost more than you’ll ever have the chance to in a life as short as yours.” His voice grows melancholy, and his eyes lower as he moves his face closer to Steven’s, “Please don’t ask me to tell you why.” His lips find Steven’s. Firm, but questioning. He pulls back, “The reasons are always different, but they never matter.” He moves forward again and this time Steven presses his lips against his. His hands reach out. Touching skin, muscle. His hands brush by the Doctors arms as he reaches under the water. At his touch the Doctor’s breathing intensifies, his kisses more urgent, “Isn’t it enough,” he gasps as Steven plays his body by memory, “that I love you? That we’re here? Now?”  
Steven pulls back suddenly, and a groan escapes the Doctor’s lips as Steven throws his arms back against the ledge of the hot tub. He looks at the Doctor, that same fire in his eyes. “Yes.” He says, “How about right now?” The Doctor grins. He lunges at Steven, who spins in the water. He feels the Doctor’s chest press up against his spine, the Doctor’s twin hearts beating against him on either side. He presses his hips backwards, an invitation readily accepted. He takes a moment to worry about waking Sherlock, but then he finds himself surrendering to the Doctor and he can think of nothing else, but this.  
Afterwards, as Steven lies with his head on the Doctor’s shoulder and his hand playing idly under the water, he tells the Doctor, “I wish we could tell him.”  
There is silence for a while. When the Doctor answers, it is with a patient understanding. This is an argument almost as old as their relationship. “You know it would destroy him. Knowing he’s only half of what he can be.”  
“Oh no,” starts Steven. “Not that part. Gods can you imagine how he’d be if he knew he was half Timelord? Insufferable.”  
“Ah. You mean about the existence of Timelords in general. He’d never let it go.”  
Steven sighs, “an entire universe of knowledge. He’d never stop.”  
“Yes,” states the Doctor gravely, “and it would kill him. His Timelord half would give him the drive, but his half-human brain would burn out long before he was sated.”  
“I know. But still, sometimes I wish it could be all three of us together. I feel so split, like I’m only whole when I’m with one of you.”  
The Doctor turned his head and kissed Steven gently. As he pulled away, “I know Steven. That’s why you need to let me go.”  
Steven pushed himself back, up against the edge of the tub. “What exactly do you mean, ‘let you go?’”  
“This is the last time Steven. This isn’t good for us, for the three of us.”  
“What do you mean?” Steven’s voice begins to fill with desperation, this had been the last thing he’d been expecting. “I love you both, I can love you both!”  
The Doctor reaches out and pulls Steven near, kissing him about the face and neck, in comfort. “I know, I do. Love is infinite Steven, unlike time. But he needs you more. And you can’t keep splitting your attention between us.”  
Steven grabs hold of the Doctor, he buries his head in his neck and cries, because he knows the Doctor is right. The Doctor is always right. He looks up at the most amazing man in the universe, tears in his eyes and says, “I get it. It’s not fair to him.”  
“No, Steven. It’s not fair to me.”  
Steven’s eyes widen in shock. The Doctor continues, his tone gentle and loving. “I can’t be saving the universe if I’m always pulled back to you, for half your attention. And I will always come back to you, always unless you let me go. And you must, because that man in the bed needs you. He is capable of great things, but you must keep him human. You must keep him on the side of the angels.” The Doctor changes his tone abruptly, a warning, “Not the Weeping Angels, mind. Entirely the wrong kinds of angels. I was speaking metaphorically.”  
Steven laughs through his tears, “I knew what you meant, idiot.”  
The Doctor smiles at him and in that moment Steven knows. This is the last time they’ll meet.  
A few minutes later, as they stand, drying themselves, their eyes meet. Steven steels himself, the Doctor hates goodbyes. “Tardis is parked out back is it?”  
The Doctor continues to dress, “What? Yes, same place as always.” Finally, the Doctor puts the final piece of his outfit together, and slips his sonic screwdriver into a pocket. They stare at each other a moment.  
“So…” the Doctor begins. Steven decides to make it easy on him, best to make it quick.  
“Well yes, I suppose I should be heading back to bed.”  
“Right, yes of course, busy day tomorrow?” The Doctor twitches uncomfortably, wary of the imminent moment of goodbye.  
Steven walks back out into the hallway. As the Doctor follows him Steven asks, “You can let yourself out I assume?”  
The Doctor grins, “Of course.” They stand for a few moments, their eyes locked, each running through a list of shared memories, trying to hold them all tight together, hoping that this moment could somehow last forever. But the Doctor is right, Steven must let him go.  
“Good night, Doctor.”  
“Good night, Steven.” They share one last fleeting kiss, as if this is not the last one they’ll ever share, and then he watches the Doctor walk away. He stands for awhile in the dark hallway, until he hears the familiar whirring and whooshing. The Doctor is gone. For some time he just sits on the floor and cries softly to himself. Though the Doctor isn’t dead, this is grief all the same.  
Not much later, as morning approaches, Steven makes his way back to his room. There in his bed, lies the second most amazing man in the universe. As he crawls back into the bed and throws his arm over Sherlock, he wonders whatever it was he did to deserve the love of these men. The two most amazing men in existence, three hearts to his one.


End file.
